Ghost Story Tuesday

Ok here’s the next instalment of the woman in my room. But I want to tell you something before you read it. Two things, actually:

1) I did end up helping this woman as best I could, and
2) Her story is not a happy one, and does not end well

I’m sort of regretting starting it...before writing it here, I have never told anyone, not even Jim, everything I saw. I do that a lot; help people and then keep it to myself. ‘Cuz, what’s the purpose, really, of telling? But this one is different because of my friends who also saw her. But if you’re looking for it to end well, uh, maybe you should just read my other, non-ghostly post, below! Yeah!
It doesn’t end today in any case. Just wanted to give you fair warning.

~~~

When she comes to me again
The woman in my room
She shows me that he
Hurt her

Hurt her body and her mind
So that she became
A shell of herself
Invisible

In fear and shame
She shut out the world
Saw no beauty
Enjoyed nothing

Still she longed to please him
Wanted nothing more
Than to be loved by him
This monster

He’d been hurt before, too
But he did not learn from it
Did not grow
Just mimicked

Then one day she got tired
The woman in my room
Realized he’d never make up
For it all

And realizing this, she found herself afraid. Really afraid, for the first time. She was alone. This was so much worse than the pain he caused her. She had given up everything for him. All of the love she once had, she felt to be gone. She knew no-one. She trusted no-one. And her desire to please him dissolved.
Into anger.

He had done this to her
Ruined her

She snaps a little, then
Though her sanity was precarious before
After so much abuse,
Neglect

She feels there is no hope
No life for her, no future
Nothing to reach out for
And grasp

He has done this to her
She hates him for taking away her life
So she shall do the same
To him